Halloween Stories
by SilverTurtle
Summary: These are the one-shots I wrote for Tricks and Treats: The 2010 Halloween Collection. They're a grab bag of terror. Please enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**OF MAN AND MONSTER**

*****'*****

Bailey looked back with horror as her ex-boyfriend Cody was impaled with a spear but she did not stop running. Her heart pounded in her ears and grief tightened her gut but she knew she couldn't stop running.

Zack cried out his brother's name in anguish, turning back to face their pursuers.

Woody grabbed Zack by the back of his shirt and pulled, "Come on, man! We can't help him now! He's dead. Run!"

"Let's go!" Bailey called out as she charged forward through the lush jungle and dragging Zack's attention back to their flight. The machete in her hands had already tasted blood today, but she had no wish for it to do so again which would surely happen if they didn't keep moving.

She slashed at hanging vines, clearing a path as quickly as her cleaving arm would allow and ran. Leaping fallen logs and ducking hanging branches. The others followed in her wake as they sped through the dense growth.

Thwok!

Bailey came up short as a dart impaled the branch in front of her, "Horsefeathers!"

"Ah!" A painful cry reached her ears and she turned her head to see another of her friends fall to the ground.

"Woody's down!" Zack shouted, kneeling beside the larger boy. His hand reached out to check for a pulse and pulled back as he shook his head.

Bailey's eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to fall, "Keep moving," she said hoarsely while turning to do just that.

Zack caught Bailey's arm and said worriedly, "There's no way they've caught up to us yet. That must have been a trap. We'll have to be more careful."

Bailey nodded and turned to take the lead again. Her eyes were peeled for any signs of traps and she carefully probed ahead with her machete. They still moved quickly, keeping low, desperate to escape these flesh maddened islanders.

***'***

_Four Hours Ago_

The _S.S. Tipton_ had docked on a quiet little island for some peace and relaxation. It was Halloween back in the states and everyone wanted to celebrate, but not with costumes and candy. Instead they wanted a party and this little island was the perfect spot for it.

The staff and most of the passengers had immediately spread out on the beach while locals welcomed them with a feast and entertainment.

Bailey, Cody, Zack, and Woody had opted to explore the island and taken up one local's offer of a guided tour. They had asked London along but she had scoffed and stretched out on her beach chair, clearly choosing tanning over adventure.

The guide showed them many local landmarks; waterfalls, strangely shaped boulders, massive trees, and some marks of wildlife. It had all been very interesting for Bailey and Cody, each scientifically minded individuals and very keen on learning more about this environment and debating which species had left this scat pile or that footprint.

But Zack and Woody had quickly grown bored. They had struck off on their own down a path the guide had told them was expressly forbidden. Cody and Bailey were forced to follow them to drag them back, but the guide would not go with them. He had shook with fear and turned ashen pale as he recounted a tale of demons and death, about how those that took that path never returned. He handed Cody his machete and fled back to his village and the safety of his people.

Cody had looked at the blade in his hands and scoffed, "Demons, yeah right. Probably just some wild animals got unprepared travelers." He tossed the machete on the ground and went after his brother and Woody. Bailey stared after him for a moment. He had just mentioned wild animals attacking humans and he threw his only weapon away? Either he was extremely confident or extremely stupid and Bailey wasn't sure which one would be worse in this situation.

With an odd sense of foreboding she took up the machete and followed after him. She didn't like the feel of the jungle here. It had been different closer to the village, lighter and more pleasant. But as she stepped further down this path the jungle seemed to change. It grew darker, and there were no animal sounds…not even crickets chirped. As a raised hunter, taught by her father and uncles, she knew that silence is not a good sign. It either means predators are in the area, which she supposed their presence could be, or there were no animals around to make the noise. She didn't like either option.

Still, they couldn't leave Zack and Woody to their own devices in an unfamiliar jungle. They could get themselves killed.

Somehow Woody and Zack had disappeared completely from view. Cody stood in the middle of the path with a perplexed look on his face, "We should have caught up to them by now. They weren't that far ahead of us."

Bailey stepped beyond him and turned her eyes to the path and its sides, looking for any tracks. "Look," she pointed to some depressions in the ground, "They came this far, at least. Let's keep going."

Cody ceded Bailey the lead position. With no tracking skills to speak of he knew he wouldn't be much use in front.

Bailey tread forward cautiously, the machete held in front of her and her eyes checking the trail for tracks and the jungle for movement. They were silent as they walked, the oppressive atmosphere building nervous tension in them.

"RAAH!" A thing jumped out of the bushes before them.

Cody shrieked and Bailey swung her weapon, reacting instinctively, just barely managing to stop her swing before striking as she realized it was Woody in front of her. He held up his hands, his eyes wide as the blade stopped just beside his neck.

Zack popped out from behind Woody laughing, "Oh man! You should have seen your faces!" He walked up to his brother and slapped him on the back, "Nice screaming there, Codes, real manly."

"You almost killed me!" Woody squeaked.

Bailey lowered the weapon in her hand and said, "Well you shouldn't have surprised me like that!"

"Did you see that?" Woody looked to the twins, "She almost killed me!"

Zack grinned, looking Bailey up and down with approval, "I like you better every day."

"Hey!" Woody protested, "Not nice."

Bailey felt her lip curl as she rolled her eyes. Zack's playful come-ons had gotten more frequent lately, a certain freedom being given his tongue now that Bailey wasn't his brother's girlfriend, but Bailey was not interested. She'd dated one Martin and was not eager to try her luck with the other, no matter how charming he thought himself. "Ugh, whatever. Let's just go."

"No way!" Zack said, "Look around! There's so much to see. We can't go back yet!" He argued persuasively, "You know there's got to be something good back here if visitors are told to stay away."

Woody nodded his agreement. Cody looked thoughtful, "The guide did say that there were demons down this way. No doubt a cautionary tale told to children to keep them from wandering off or traveling this path."

"He also said that people disappeared never to be heard from again," Bailey pointed out.

"Nonsense," Cody dismissed, "Demons don't exist. Disappearing people are just part of the myth. Like the boogieman. I say we keep going. Find whatever it is they don't want us to find."

"Yeah," Zack said, "There's probably gold and jewels and stuff in a cave. Let's go!"

He charged up the path with Woody hot on his heels and Cody following sedately after. Cody paused to look back at her, "You coming?"

Bailey briefly considered leaving them and going back and if they got themselves killed it was their own fault for being stupid. But she was the only person with a weapon in case they got into trouble and she didn't want to see any of them hurt so she reluctantly nodded and followed along. She kept a tight grip on the machete at all times.

***'***

They walked for a long time. The path twisted in on itself several times and became confusing. Almost like the jungle was rearranging itself around them. Bailey wasn't the only one who noticed. Zack's enthusiasm for this adventure had waned and now he was watching their path and the trees as carefully as Bailey was. Cody and Woody didn't appear to know anything was amiss.

"Hold up, guys," Zack said. He paced ahead of their group and studied the ground. "Bailey, come look at this."

She went over to him and knelt, eyes scanning the earth. "These are our tracks," she said quietly, worry creeping into her tone, "but we haven't been going in circles. I've been marking the trees. Look," she gestured around them, "there are no marks."

Zack peered at a tree nearby. He went up to it and examined the bark. His fingers reached out and plucked out a notch of bark, "Held on with sap or something. We've been led in circles."

All four of them drew closer together and looked around the suddenly ominous trees. There was something…someone out there playing with them.

"So," Cody said full of bluster, "We just go back." He marched back the way they'd come but was halted by the appearance of grim faced men emerging all around them, primitive spears pointing in their direction. Their camouflage had been excellent, mud smeared haphazardly on their bodies, leaves tied to their heads and limbs; they'd blended perfectly into the jungle. Zack and Bailey had never seen them, never heard them, and somehow they'd managed to silently surround the group.

One of the mud men jutted his chin and pointed his spear, and obvious indication that they were to continue down the path.

The teens were marched along in the center of a ring of spears. It didn't take long before they were in the center of a village of huts. They looked around frightened, none of them had missed the skulls on pikes arranged around the perimeter or that many of the village people wore bones dangling from their bodies…there was even a young man gnawing on what Cody and Bailey recognized as a human femur.

Cannibals.

They'd been captured by cannibals. Bailey felt revulsion and she shuddered, every hair on her body stood on end and she gripped the weapon in her hand more tightly. They had to escape. If they didn't make a break for it soon they'd be too far into the village to do so and they'd be dead.

She looked to Zack who caught her eyes and nodded just slightly. He was thinking the same thing.

All of her muscles tensed and adrenalin flooded her system as she ruthlessly forced back her panic. They'd only have one shot at this.

Suddenly she and Zack turned at the same time, roaring defiance at their captors. Zack tackled one man while Bailey lifted her machete and brought it down on the head of a shocked guard, splitting him open and killing him instantly. As he fell he made a space for the others to run through and run they did. Bailey leapt over the freshly made corpse and the boys followed swiftly. Zack had wrested a spear from the man he'd tackled and used it to brutally bash the men to either side.

They fled into the jungle, running as fast as their legs would carry them.

Bailey was in front with Zack immediately behind her. Woody and Cody brought up the rear, neither of them being particularly athletic they were slowly falling behind. Though their adrenaline certainly helped them along it wouldn't be long before they couldn't sustain this pace.

Cody flagged first, pausing to catch his breath. The others slowed but didn't fully stop. Zack looked back, "Cody!" and he was about to yell for his brother to hurry up when a spear came sailing through the air and struck Cody crunching through his sternum and pinning him to the tree he was leaning against.

"CODY!" Zack screamed, the cry so chilling it momentarily stopped Bailey's heart. But she didn't stop running, she glanced back to confirm their loss and kept moving. Stopping meant death.

She heard Woody collect Zack and called out "Let's go!" She gripped her machete a little tighter and decided to deviate from the path to make it harder on their pursuers.

She hacked and slashed as she ran, clearing just enough space for herself and the boys to follow.

She ducked to avoid a low hanging branch when she was stopped short by a dart striking the limb in front of her face. "Horsefeathers!," she cursed and quickly knelt to make a smaller target.

"Ah!"

"Woody's down!" Zack called out. Bailey looked back to see Woody on the ground, darts peppering the side of his neck, and Zack checking his pulse and shaking his head.

Zack crept forward to Bailey's side as she shut her eyes and forced back her sorrow, "Keep moving."

He caught her arm, "There's no way they've caught up to us yet. That must have been a trap. We'll have to be more careful."

Bailey nodded and continued her machete checking their way as they cautiously wove through the jungle. They could hear the sounds of pursuit, frustrated shouts and rustling bushes, for quite a while as they sneakily crawled away.

***'***

"Hey, hey wait," Zack said, reaching out once more to grab Bailey and halt their progress. "Listen." He was silent as he turned his head all around. There was absolutely no noise. "They aren't following us anymore. I wonder why."

Cautiously they rose, standing to look around. There was something different about this part of the jungle. There were no paths, no signs of human passage, no animal sounds. Confused but still full of adrenaline and unwilling to relax they moved a little ways apart, checking things out.

"What is this? It stinks!" Zack plugged his nose and backed away from a large mound, poking it with the spear he still held.

Bailey approached and swiftly identified the pile, "This is scat."

"Like poop?" Zack asked, eyes wide as he took in the three foot tall pile again.

"From something big." Bailey confirmed, "Something big that eats meat. It looks just like cougar scat."

"No cougar made a pile of shit that big!" Zack said incredulously.

"No," Bailey confirmed, "but something like one did. And judging from this pile it's definitely a big animal. We should be careful."

"Because we were being so reckless before." Zack said sarcastically.

"Says the boy who went down the forbidden path hoping for treasure," Bailey riposted caustically, regretting it immediately as Zack's eyes darkened and both their thoughts turned to Woody and Cody. "Sorry."

Zack shook his head, "No. You're right. This is all my fault."

"Zack," Bailey put her hand on Zack's shoulder, "It's not. You didn't kill them."

"No," Zack whispered, "But I dragged us all out here and right into that trap and now Cody and Woody are dead! All because of me! Because I got bored!"

"Stop it!" Bailey slapped his face once, lightly. "Cody and Woody followed you because they wanted to, you didn't force them. We were all warned and we all ignored that warning. It's not your fault there are crazy cannibals out here."

Zack shook his head and shrugged off Bailey's hand, "Yeah, whatever. Doesn't bring either of them back." He stalked away deeper into the jungle.

Bailey kicked at a bush, frustrated and scared. She was sure Zack was just as frightened as she was, but his guilt was making him careless and separating was an enormously bad idea. Particularly when only one had a weapon. "Idiot," Bailey cursed and stomped her foot just once before following after him.

She broke into a run when she heard a shout and the crash of a falling tree, "Zack?"

Zack ran right into her and they both tumbled to the ground, their heads knocking together.

"I think I know why the cannibals didn't follow us and what made that giant shit pile," he said as he swiftly pushed himself up.

"What?" Bailey's bell had been rung when Zack's skull had collided with her own, she just barely caught what Zack had said.

"That!" Zack pointed to where a massive panther, one the size of a house, came growling out of the jungle. Its eyes locked on the two humans and it roared and pounced.

Zack and Bailey scrambled out of its way, breaking to either side. The jungle cat was momentarily confused as its prey split in two directions. It chose to follow Bailey, its attention drawn by her hair waving like a flag behind her.

"Hey ugly!" Zack's shout made the beast turn its head, only to catch a spear through its eye. "Yes!" Zack shouted as the giant cat reared up yowling, its paws scratching at its face. It drove the spear in deeper, broke the end off, and released another piecing yowl.

Mad with pain the beast lashed out. Its claws raked in front of it lightning fast. It caught both teens off-guard. Zack was slammed by the meat of the paw and sent flying to crash with a sickening snap against a tree. Bailey was further away and still scrambling with her back to the creature and its claws tore at her, leaving three large gashes across her back.

She forced herself upright as the animal swung its head wildly and pawed at its damaged eye. She made it to Zack's side and found him dead, his neck obviously broken but a strangely serene smile on his face.

It was too much for her to bear. She'd seen three of her friends die right before her eyes, slain brutally for no good reason. Two, she knew, would become meals for grotesque and twisted people. And this last one had given everything he had to protect her. Bailey felt something break within her. She went hot all over and her body shook with rage and grief. She clutched the machete in her hand a little tighter and rose up. She turned to face the beast, the one thing she could actually take revenge on, and her whole being vibrated with energy fueled by her fear, her grief, and her fury.

With an animalistic scream that echoed through the jungle and pierced through the wounded beast's pain Bailey charged. She came at the animal from its blind side, it never saw her coming. She leapt, her machete out and poised to strike, and caught the monster in the neck. The beast reared and twisted, trying to dislodge Bailey, but she clung to its fur grimly lost in her berserker frenzy. She drove her weapon deeper, as deep as she could make it go, and forced it to slice through thick muscle and skin. Her emotions must have given her the strength of many as she was actually able to slash through the beast's neck, severing its artery and forcing it to collapse on top of her.

The creature lay in the circle of destruction its thrashing had caused, the light in its eyes fading as death claimed it.

For a time nothing moved.

Then, like some demented hell beast, Bailey clawed her way from beneath the creature covered in its blood and still gripping her blade.

She crawled over its lolling head and dropped to the ground with a heavy thump. She scrambled a few feet from the giant corpse and wretched. She heaved and groaned and heaved some more as she emptied her belly, made sick by the events of the day.

When she was finished and her heaves were clear of even bile she stood and wiped a bloody hand across her mouth.

Then she started walking.

She knew that behind her were the cannibals, the dead beast, and the corpses of her friends. Before her, she was certain, must lay the _S.S. Tipton_ and what remained of the people she knew. And she wanted off this island of death, away from the scenes of horror, away from the monster she herself had become to survive.

***'***

Darkness fell and she walked on, determined to make it back to the ship.

She walked blindly, stumbling over roots and tripping into hollows.

Suddenly she saw a light, the reassuring beam of a flashlight and heard people calling for her and for her fallen friends. She rushed towards whoever held that flashlight and knew she was close to her salvation.

When she stumbled from the undergrowth and directly into the shaft of light she heard a startled cry. She looked up, beyond the beam of the light, searching for the face of its bearer.

"Bailey?" she recognized that voice, Miss Tutweiller. Teacher. Friend. "Bailey, is that you? What happened? We've been searching for you all for hours!"

Bailey looked at the weapon in her hand and saw it covered in blood and dirt. She looked down at herself and saw she was an even bigger mess than the machete. There were tears in her clothes, cuts and scrapes that were bleeding and she could feel the burn of the wounds on her back, she was covered in dirt and bits of leaves. But she was alive.

"They're all dead," she whispered, her voice rough from yelling, from dryness, from grief.

"Here, drink this," Miss Tutweiller gave her a canteen of water, "I can't understand what you're saying."

Bailey chugged the water so quickly it spilled from her mouth and down the skin of her throat, washing away some of the blood and grime. While she was doing that Miss Tutweiller spoke into a hand held radio to report finding Bailey. When she had her fill she pulled the canteen away and gasped, she said with a hysterical edge, "They're dead. The boys are dead. Zack, Cody, Woody, all dead."

"What?" Miss Tutweiller asked, shocked, "How?"

Bailey slowly collapsed to her knees and sobbed. Miss Tutweiller followed her down and gently cradled her in her arms, shushing her and trying to soothe her. "We were on a trail, one the guide told us not to go on but you know Zack," her breath hitched, no one would know Zack again.

She related the whole harrowing tale to her stunned teacher and when she reached the end she clung tightly to the older woman hoping some of the grief and pain she was feeling would lift. Hoping to find the sense of comfort she so desperately needed.

Miss Tutweiller gripped Bailey just as tightly, for not so different reasons. Her tale had terrified the older woman, who now felt as if monsters were behind every bush and tree. She was devastated by knowing the fate of three of her students and further distressed over Bailey's condition. She knew the girl was not alright either physically or mentally and didn't know whether the young woman would ever be able to recover from this. She held Bailey and murmured comforting nothings to the teen as they waited for more searchers to arrive and help them back to the ship.

***'***

When help came and they were ushered back to the ship everyone was shocked at Bailey's appearance and at her story.

The staff and passengers got a bigger shock when a deckhand had tried to take the machete away from Bailey. The usually kind and polite girl had bared her teeth, snarled, and shoved the man away while the weapon had come up defensively in front of her and she had crouched, looking like a trapped wild animal. She growled fiercely at anyone who came too near.

"Bailey," Mr. Moseby had tried to reason with her, "It is ship policy that there are to be no weapons aboard the _S.S. Tipton_. Give that knife to the nice man here and then we can get you cleaned up."

Bailey had just slipped out of reach of the deckhand and stood facing them boldly.

Miss Tutweiller had snuck up beside her and gently taken Bailey's wrist in a light hold, "Bailey," she said softly.

Bailey's eyes had locked with her teacher's, and Miss Tutweiller was taken aback by the wide eyed wild look. Bailey looked feral, but she was entirely calm as she said "Miss Tutweiller, I saw my friends murdered today and the only thing that kept me from being another victim was this," she turned the blade so it caught the light, then she glared out defiantly at Mr. Moseby and the deckhands, "I'm not letting go of the one thing that kept me alive. Ship policy be damned."

When it looked as though Moseby and the sailors would step forward to take the weapon by force Miss Tutweiller held up a quelling hand and gave Moseby a look when he would have protested. She stroked Bailey's wrist with her thumb and said, "Okay. You can keep it. Now let's get you cleaned up. You've had a long day and need to rest."

Bailey had meekly followed where Miss Tutweiller led, her weapon dangling uselessly from the hand her teacher had control of. The crowd parted before them and they passed by unchallenged again.

***'***

Mr. Moseby called in special forces maintained on Mr. Tipton's dime to retrieve the remains of the boys…it was understood in what their orders didn't say that if they had to slaughter a few cannibals to recover the remains, well, no one would be looking too hard at their mission reports or ammunition logs.

Come morning they had three body bags stowed in a freezer below deck, each containing one of the former students, and Mr. Tipton's special forces were gone.

Laid out on the beach was the mammoth form of the dead panther surrounded by stunned and jubilant villagers. Ship passengers all around her kept looking between the dead beast and her silent form, wondering that she could have survived an attack from it and kill it.

Bailey watched their celebrations from the deck of the _S.S. Tipton, _her machete sheathed at her side, and was sickened remembering the events of yesterday. Her friends were dead. She'd killed that beast. She'd killed a man.

She couldn't bring herself to feel remorseful over killing the cannibal, he'd have done the same to her, but she regretted the necessity of killing the panther. It had been a magnificent creature, possibly the only one of its kind, and it had only been doing what came naturally. The stitches on her back itched, a mere taste of what the animal had been capable of. The panther would have killed her too if it could have. She'd done the right thing.

She felt a warm hand low on her back, "You alright?"

Bailey turned her head just barely to the side to see Miss Tutweiller's concerned visage. The corner of her mouth tilted up just barely, humorlessly, and she said, "No."

They said nothing else as the _S.S. Tipton_ pulled away from the tiny island that had held such terrors, en route for the states to deliver the bodies of Bailey's friends to their families.

**THE END**

*****'*****

**A/N:** _That was fun. I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review._


	2. Chapter 2

**THE HALLOWEED**

*****'*****

Three weeks before Halloween and the students aboard the _S.S. Tipton_ were in a special class with a guest lecturer, the renowned scientist Dr. Drew Lipsky. Dr. Lipsky was teaching a unit on botany for the class while he traveled to various locations to lecture in a series of scientific conferences. Today he had announced the beginning of a special project.

"All right class, now that we all know the basics we can start having some fun," he paused walking around the room to chuckle to himself with his fingers steepled before him, "You're going to be split into pairs and given a variety of plant genetic samples. With these samples I want your teams to breed new plants-"

"Dr. Lipsky," Cody Martin interrupted, "While _I_ would not have a problem creating a plant from these samples don't you think those methods are a little _advanced_ for most of the class?"

Dr. Lipsky turned cold eyes on the young man and made a distasteful noise in the back of his throat. "Normally, you'd be right Mr. Martin," he replied in his nasally voice while running a gloved hand over his long ponytailed black hair. He turned his eyes away and addressed the rest of the class, "However, in the samples box I'll be handing out after I've assigned your partners you will find a special maturation chamber, of my own design, and additional instructions for the breeding process which should enable even the most inept of you," he gave Woody and Zack long considering looks at those words and continued, "to complete the project successfully within the next three weeks."

He returned to the front of the class and lifted a clipboard from the desk, "As to your partners…" he trailed off as he mused and cast his eyes over the class. Obviously coming to some decision he began listing his choices: London and Maya, Cody and Addison, Zack and Bailey, Becky and Woody.

After making some marks on his clipboard Dr. Lipsky instructed them all to move their desks so they sat with their project partners. When that was done he lifted a box from its place among many beside the wall and placed it on Cody's desk. He repeated this until each team had a box between them and there were no more remaining against the wall. "Once you and your partner decide which plants to cross and begin the maturation process I want you to keep detailed logs of the progress of your plants. This is as much a practical test of what you've learned from me as it is a beta test for my maturation chambers so be very careful about your documentation. You may spend the rest of the period discussing the project with your partner. These will be kept in the classroom to prevent any unsportsmanlike project tampering," he gave Zack another look and sat behind his desk. "Oh, and before I forget, this is a competition. Whoever makes the most viable and hardy plant will win a free dinner on me at the best restaurant on this ship, present their creation to the world's top scientists at this year's Innovative Scientific Creation and Adaptation Conference in Italy, and receive international publication in TIME magazine." He knew most of the furor caused by that statement was over the meal, but he also knew that whoever won would give his maturation chamber project an excellent boost in the eyes of the scientific community so he would forgive them their excitement over good breadsticks.

***'***

Cody eagerly opened the box to get his first look at the maturation chamber which would allow mere teenagers to breed plants from genetic samples into full growth in two weeks. "Oh my," he said excitedly as he lifted a large cylinder, two feet tall and one foot wide, from the box. The tube was clear, obviously to show what grew within, but the base and lid were rife with tubes, wires, and glowing lights all smoothed into a sleek pattern. There was a packet inside, a mixture to create the gel in which the plant samples would be combined and allow the plant to form without soil or seed. It was a work of beauty. A scientific triumph if it actually worked; Cody had his doubts about Dr. Lipsky's talents, but he was eager to try this out. And it was an excellent opportunity to show Bailey what she was missing and best Zack at the same time, win-win for Cody.

Addison, meanwhile, had started leafing through the trays of genetic samples to see what was available. Her mind was on her sometime boyfriend Woody working with his ex-girlfriend Becky, she couldn't let them win or Woody's affections may stray back to his ex and that was something Addison could not allow to happen. "We've got to win this thing," Addison declared catching Cody's eye.

He held her gaze steadily, then grinned, "Don't worry. We will." He too began sorting through the samples and they began an earnest discussion about the type of plant they would create.

***'***

While Cody was busy admiring the maturation chamber Zack was busy being smug about having the farm girl as his partner. Bailey had proven with a previous project that she had quite the green thumb having created a fertilizer that allowed her to grow mature stalks of corn in her room, which meant Zack would coast through this assignment. He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back on two legs of his chair grinning. Bailey, after examining the contents of the box, looked at Zack and rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to let you foist all the work on me, you know," she said.

Zack looked up at her still grinning, "And I'm not going to touch any of that sciencey stuff. It might give me nerd germs."

Bailey crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Zack, "If you don't do anything for this project then I won't either."

Zack furrowed his brow and frowned, "But if you don't we'll fail," he grinned again thinking he'd found the ticket to a free ride, "You'll get an 'F' and ruin your GPA."

Bailey smirked at him and leaned back in her own chair, "Failing one project will only drop my GPA a fraction, not enough to really matter with all the extra credit I've done. Whereas acing this project would raise your grade an entire letter, giving you a passing grade in the class and put you that much closer to never having to take another class again."

Zack thought about this. Passing this class would mean he could graduate and never go near a schoolbook again. "All I would have to do is my fair share, right?"

"Half the project," Bailey returned, "Even distribution of work."

He sucked his teeth and clucked his tongue, "Alright. I'll do it. Let's make a plant."

***'***

Maya sorted through the content of her and London's box pulling out the trays of samples and glancing them over. "So, what kind of plant do you want to make, London?" She asked while pulling out the last few trays.

London, who was filing her nails, set her emery board aside and propped her head on fisted hands. She shrugged, "Something pretty. With big colorful flowers. I like flowers."

Maya smiled, "I do, too. I think we can put something together with what we've got here. You like roses, right?"

London nodded and suddenly seemed a lot more interested in the project, "Hey, what are those flowers that grow a lot on one stem, like a whole ball of flowers?"

Maya tilted her head and thought a moment, she didn't know a whole lot about flowers but she stopped by florists sometimes and looked around, "Hydrangeas?"

The heiress shook her head, "No. Smaller. Spikier. Tiny little flowers in a ball. I want to see if we can make a ball of tiny little roses like that."

"I have no idea what kind of flower you're talking about, London," Maya shifted and handed London a tray of samples, "But we can look through these and see if it's here. There are little pictures with each sample, maybe we'll find yours."

"I hope so," London enthused, "I want to make a whole bouquet of roses on one stem!"

***'***

Woody looked despondently at his glaring project partner and the untouched box between them.

"So," he began awkwardly, "We're project partners. That's fun, don't you think?"

Becky continued to glare, "Not really."

"Hurtful," Woody murmured but set his shoulders straight and prepared to be the bigger person, "Look, I know we didn't end on the best terms but can't we still be friends? Or at least on speaking terms so we can get through this assignment?"

Becky still glared, but the mulish set of her jaw softened, "Fine. But only because I don't want to fail."

Woody sighed, nodded, and opened the box, "Good enough."

***'***

Each pair decided that day what plants to mix and match to create their hardy hybrids, but each kept that knowledge from the other teams.

At first the plants started as benign, harmless things.

London and Maya mixed together roses and globe thistles in the hopes of creating globe roses so London could have an entire bouquet from one stem; not a revolutionary idea, but cute and romantic. They weren't in it to win, they were just having fun. One week in it was clear their creation, a slowly flowering stem suspended in clear gel was at least viable as a plant, though they weren't certain it would flower as they hoped it would.

Woody and Becky mixed a creeping vine with daisies, Becky's favorite flower. The idea was that they would have a rope of daisies which would be much easier to use as a crown than making a daisy chain. In their gel a vine coiled with buds all over it. They wouldn't know until the buds opened whether it would be daisies or just the small flowers the vine generally sprouted on its own.

Bailey had wanted to do something a little more humanitarian for her project and decided she and Zack should make a hardy grain plant with prolific growth rates to help ease world hunger. Zack just wanted to ace the project so he let Bailey take the lead in choosing what would be combined and decided he'd just help with the documentation. Bailey chose to use wheat, a grain grass able to grow worldwide, and mixed it with bamboo, another grass with an incredible growth rate. The hope was to breed a plant which could be grown anywhere and at such a rate that it could constantly be harvested. At a week their stem of grass looked like fuzzy bamboo with tiny wisps of hulls (where the grain was enclosed) dangled from each join in the plant.

Cody and Addison wanted to make an aquatic plant that would feed off algae which could be used in ponds, pools, lakes, and fish farms to keep the water clean and devour nuisance bugs such a mosquitoes and horseflies. Cody had outlined a plan which would combine the waterwheel plant, the Venus flytrap, and the water lily. As they'd been adding the gene samples to the maturation chamber Addison, who was drinking one of London's energy drink concoctions and handling a blackberry vine sample, looked over to see Woody and Becky laughing and had reflexively closed her fist making some of her drink splash into the gel and cracking the sample sending it drifting into the chamber without either Addison or Cody noticing. As a result, at one week old, their plant was much larger and fiercer looking than they'd anticipated. It had already formed mature flytrap leaves and had sprouted flowers at the top and neither of them was certain where the thorns had come from.

***'***

Their plants continued to grow at astonishing rates for the week they remained in the maturation chamber. At the end of the second week, to test the viability of the plants, they were removed from the chamber and potted.

London and Maya's globe roses grew exactly as planned. Tiny roses formed a perfect sphere at the end of each long stem, and there were a great deal of stems splitting from the original body of the plant. The girls were thrilled with their success and hoped that their plant would survive the transplant process and thrive in a real pot of soil.

Woody and Becky's vine had bloomed and showed off its open daisies for three days before the flowers dropped away and new vines grew from the places the flowers had been and began budding themselves. Excited at their success and eager to see if their vine would do well in real dirt they transplanted it into a pot with a trellis curling the vines around the sturdy sticks and hoping the plant continued to grow.

Bailey and Zack, because of the extremely fast growth of their bamboo-wheat hybrid, had removed their plant from the maturation chamber several days previous when it had grown too tall to fit. It grew even better in real soil than it had in the chamber and the two of them spent quite a lot of time trimming it back and harvesting the hulls of wheat. They had so many hulls that Bailey had made Zack grind the grain so she could use it to bake a loaf of bread to test if the wheat was as flavorful as non-hybrid breeds, which had turned out to be a successful experiment.

Cody and Addison, when the time came to transplant, were afraid to touch their creation. It had teeth and thorns everywhere and seemed to follow any movement of their hands with one of its flytrap mouths. But, wearing gloves and goggles, they moved their plant from the maturation chamber into a tank half-full of water with soil and rocks coating several inches of the bottom for the plant to root in. Its thorny vies curled over the edges of the tank as it rested, almost sleepily, in the water. They watched wide-eyed as the trap closed swiftly on a curious fly and twitched its vines with a satisfied rustle.

"Dude," Zack exclaimed looking over his brother's shoulder, "You've created a monster!"

Cody gulped nervously, knowing his brother was right but unwilling to admit any failing he replied, "Don't be foolish Zack. This plant is a triumph of botany and will be of immeasurable benefit to-"

"Stuff it, Codes," Zack stopped his discomfited brother, "That _thing_ is a monster. It looks like something out of my Captain Jim-bob Sherwood comics. An alien plant. A carnivorous alien plant!" Suddenly Zack laughed, "Just like on planet 97833-R in issue number 159 'The Green Thumb' where Jim-Bob, even though it's against his personal policy, had to create an herbicide to kill the plant or lose his girlfriend to its people eating clutches."

There was a long pause as the whole class stared at Zack.

"What?" he said looking around, "It's a comic! He has lasers!" In an aside to Woody he whispered, "And the chick is HOT!"

"I didn't know you knew what an herbicide was," Maya said looking a little charmed.

Zack puffed out his chest and grinned, "I am a man of many skills."

Before anyone could be too impressed Cody broke in, "He didn't know until he read that comic and asked _me_ what it was."

The class laughed lightly while Zack deflated and shook his head, "Dude, not cool."

"Seriously though guys," Bailey said, "That plant is the scariest thing I've ever seen, and I've seen my Uncle Abner after some moonshine and a dip in the chum bucket streaking through Cousin Clem's alligator farm. Even the gators wouldn't take a snap at him."

There was another round of staring, this time with Bailey at its center.

"What?" Bailey put a hand on her hip and pointed at her classmates with the other, "Like none of you have embarrassing relatives."

"I must admit," Dr. Lipsky stated looking over each project, "The maturation chambers did even better than I had anticipated. And your creativity in combining plants has been inspiring, class. Though I'm at a loss as to what benefit a daisy vine and the carnivorous plant might be. One last week to see if the plants are viable in real soil, and then we'll see who made the best plant."

***'***

Over the third week each plant grew like weeds. Not surprising since each had a bit of weed in it.

London and Maya carefully tended their globe roses, watching with joy and excitement as new buds appeared and bloomed. They'd each cut a globe from the main stalk and carried it around the ship getting a lot of attention from passengers. Maya had dried her globe and pressed London's for her as a keepsake.

Woody and Becky's vines had multiplied and overgrown their trellis pot within two days. They were unsure of how to tame it so Becky just started braiding the vines together. Eventually she had them braided so thoroughly that they started to grow out in the braids, twining themselves together without her guiding hand.

Bailey and Zack's grew the fastest, but they kept it trimmed to a reasonable size and harvested the hulls each time they cut it back. The chefs on the ship had begun to use what Bailey and Zack harvested from the plant to make the ship's dinner rolls, they had never received so many compliments on their meals.

While Bailey and Zack's grew the fastest, Cody and Addison's grew the largest. By the time the last week was out their flytrap was easily twice the size of a grown man with thorny vines stretching out. It was so large they'd had to move it out of the classroom and onto the sky deck where it became a curiosity and a draw for tourists. They'd begun feeding it raw steaks just to make sure the traps stayed closed. They'd already lost Bucky the rat to its gaping maw and were unwilling to take the chance on letting it get a hold of anything else. They'd tried, once, to cut it down to a more manageable size, but its vines resisted the cut and had seized the hedge clippers and gouged deep scratches into their arms. After that they felt it was best to leave it be. At least out on the sky deck they might have a chance to dump it into the salt water if it got to be too much of a problem, hopefully the water would kill it as it was bred to be a fresh water plant.

Dr. Lipsky went over the team reports on their plants. Each team had passed the assignment as they'd all successfully grown a hybrid plant, but he still had to decide who had created the best plant and would win the dinner.

"As you all know, everyone receives a passing grade for this project. But only one team will receive the prize of a gourmet dinner and international acclaim." He turned a winning smile on his eager students, "Each team created a very unique plant. London and Maya grew a full bouquet a stem. Woody and Becky created a daisy vine. Bailey and Zack may have just found the solution to world hunger with their bamboo-wheat. And Cody and Addison made…well, they have certainly provided fodder for science fiction novels." He paused while the class chuckled and ribbed Cody and Addison a little. "You each successfully created a brand new plant, and for that you are to be congratulated. But only two of those plants may have an impact on the world at large. The globe roses have the potential to revolutionize romantic celebrations the world over, while the bamboo-wheat could end world hunger. As a scientist I must fall on the side of the plant which represents the greatest contribution to the scientific community, which means that the team of Bailey and Zack and their bamboo-wheat are the winners of this competition. Congratulations."

The class clapped politely while Zack hooted and danced around the room and Bailey patted their plant fondly. The rest were disappointed, but satisfied with the plants they'd created.

All except Cody and Addison.

"We did create a monster, didn't we?" Addison asked Cody.

"Yeah," Cody said softly, "And we should probably get rid of it before it becomes a nuisance."

Addison nodded her head in agreement.

Neither of them saw the thorny tendril hanging in the corner of the classroom retreat through a crack in the wall.

***'***

Two days later, Halloween Sunday, Bailey and Zack stood in front of the doors of the best restaurant on the _S.S. Tipton_ in the late evening waiting for Dr. Lipsky to show up. They made small talk and actually got pretty involved in a conversation about wilderness survival, so involved that when next they looked at a clock an hour had passed and their teacher was a no-show.

"That's odd," Bailey said, "He's usually very punctual."

"Should we go see what's holding him up?" Zack offered.

"I think so," Bailey agreed.

The two headed towards the guest quarters where Dr. Lipsky had a suite. They turned to go down the hall his room was in and were brought up short by a thick wall of thorny vines.

"What the heck?" Zack poked at the vines but hastily retreated when the one he'd poked swiped back at him.

Bailey watched this with a surprised "Horsefeathers!" dropping from her lips. "What is going on here?"

Zack grabbed Bailey by the wrist and dragged her back down the hall they'd come. "I've seen this before. Remember when London, Woody, and I had to do that science project growing vines?"

Bailey nodded, "When Cody and I were looking for that sea monster, yes."

"Well," Zack continued, "That vine is behaving like the vines we grew after London's energy drink got into it. You remember us telling you guys it was like the thing had a mind of its own?" He waited for Bailey's nod before continuing, "And that looked like part of Cody and Addison's monster plant."

Bailey's eyes went wide, "Oh my goodness. Carnivorous sentient plant. Not good. We've got to stop it!"

Zack nodded grimly, "Before it hurts anyone else. If it's thinking like I think it's thinking then Dr. Lipsky was its most recent meal."

Bailey went a particularly ill shade of green and closed her eyes even as Zack kept propelling them both forward. Then she said, "We need to ask Cody and Addison what all they put into that thing."

"Right," Zack agreed and the two went dashing off to the student rooms.

***'***

Addison had just returned to the room she shared with Becky after discussing with Cody the plan to destroy their plant. She wasn't paying too much attention to her surroundings and only turned on the lights after she'd closed the door when she heard the lock turn without her having turned it.

When the bright lights came on she stared startled at the vine creeping over the door knob. "Oh no," she intoned. She slowly turned around and let out a scream of pure terror at what she saw.

The room was completely overgrown with thorny vines. One flytrap mouth pushed its way out of the bathroom door. It was closed, but a hand protruded from between its closed teeth…a hand dripping blood…a hand she recognized as Becky's by the daisy vine bracelet wrapped around the wrist.

She screamed again and turned to try and pry the door open. She ripped the vine from the knob, slicing her palm open on its thorns as she did so. She rushed to turn the lock but it was too late. The precious seconds she'd used to stare horrified at the scene of Becky's demise had given the vines a chance to reach her legs. They crawled up, piercing skin, and yanked her backwards.

She tripped face first onto the floor, breaking her nose and splitting her lip. With blood dripping from her face the plant went into a frenzy, as if it could sense it, and dragged her more quickly towards a second trap. She screamed and tried to scramble away, but the vines clung ever tighter and dug their needles more deeply into her flesh immobilizing her.

She was lifted from the floor; clear gouges in the wood paneling were the marks her nails left as she tried to struggle her way out of the murderous plant's grip. The vines lifted her higher, she dangled screaming and crying as she was pulled closer to the plant's mouth. She thrashed in mid-air, hoping to gain even a moment more of freedom, but the plant's hold on her was firm and it effortlessly lay her in the trap that was to be her tomb.

She screamed watching the light around her disappear as the teeth closed in until she was in darkness.

She screamed feeling the sides of the plant squeeze her even more tightly.

She screamed until she choked when the plant had compressed her too much to breathe.

When her door burst open and Zack and Bailey stood on the threshold they were just in time to hear the sickening squish as Addison's body was crushed within the plant's jaws. They wasted no time in hurriedly closing the door and rushing to Cody and Woody's room.

***'***

As they ran they heard people screaming and other frantic footfalls. The plant was attacking the whole ship, killing people to feed its insatiable hunger.

They burst into Cody and Woody's room and found more horror. The acrid taste of blood hung in the air.

So, too, did Woody hang.

Woody was strung up among the vines, hanging limply by the neck and obviously dead. The vines had slithered around him, their inches long thorns puncturing him all over and spilling his blood in dark pools on the floor. The fatal thorn had torn into his neck, arterial spray coated the wall and dribbled down the length of the vine.

They didn't wait to watch another trap mouth unfurl to devour its prey.

***'***

They ran out to the sky deck, the source of all this horror sat quivering in its tank. It had grown larger even in the last few hours since they'd seen it. Its original trap mouth stood grinning at them, filled with a lump they could only identify as Mr. Moseby by the monogrammed handkerchief impaled on one of its long teeth. Behind that original head was a riot of blooming flowers, the petals dropping away to reveal seed pods.

Cody stood in front of his creation, "You have to stop this!" he shouted at his plant. "It isn't right, you killing all these people!"

He paused as if listening then shouted desperately at the plant, "No! No! I didn't want that! Yes, I wanted the recognition and yes, I wanted to win, and yes, I want her back but not at this cost! Nothing is worth this many lives!"

He paused again, "What? She's-" He turned around and instantly locked eyes with Bailey. She took in the tears streaming down his face, the misery etched in every line. "Bailey," he breathed, and when he spoke again his voice took on a panicked tone, "Bailey! You have to believe I never wanted any of this to happen! I didn't! I had no idea things would get so out of control!"

"Cody?" Zack said, "What are you doing? Get away from that thing!" Zack dashed forward intent on pulling his brother to relative safety. Bailey caught the collar of his jacket just in time as a series of spear like vines shot between him and his twin.

"No!" Cody said, "He's no threat to you! Leave him alone! Leave them both alone! You want someone take me! I'm the one who created you. I'm the one who you should hate most. Take me!"

The vines quivered, their rustling covering the sound of Maya and London screeching onto the sky deck, panic clear on their faces. Maya barreled right into Zack, nearly topping them both into the solid wall of thorny vines.

"What the heck is going on?" London questioned fearfully. She clutched the plant she and Maya had created close to her chest; her knuckles were white with the effort of keeping hold of it.

Bailey answered, "Cody's talking to his plant. It's apparently sentient and intent on killing everyone on the ship. Cody is trying to convince it that he's the one it should kill since he's the one responsible for creating it. But I don't think it wants to kill Cody."

"What's that sound?" Maya asked.

Now that they were listening they could clearly hear a not quite rhythmic tapping coming from where Cody stood still trying to reason with his plant.

"It's Morse code!" Bailey and Zack shouted at the same time.

"Oh my goodness, he really is talking to a plant. His plant really is sentient. Oh my goodness." Bailey sat down hard on the deck and put a hand to her head. She was so busy with her thoughts that she didn't feel the vines curling around her waist until it was too late. They lifted her into the air before she could scream or any of her friends could help her. But the plant wasn't savaging her, it was cradling her gently and carrying her straight to the heart of the plant…to Cody.

"Bailey!" Zack, London, Maya and Cody called at the same time. Cody with relief, the others with fear.

"I'm okay!" she called out, then softer just for Cody, "I'm okay."

"Bailey," Cody sobbed, "I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I thought if I won the contest I'd get your attention again and I could win you back. It was never supposed to go like this." He moaned piteously and fell to his knees with his head in his hands.

"Cody," she shook her head. "You certainly have my attention," she said wryly as the plant deposited her next to her ex-boyfriend. She sank slowly to her knees beside him and tentatively touched his shoulder, "I know you didn't mean for this to happen. Of course you didn't. But Cody, you were never going to win me back."

He looked up at her and she read in his face all the sorrow he'd been living with, that he'd let fester and grow until creating a plant like this had seemed like a good idea, and she lost her breath for a moment to see what she'd reduced him to.

A moment that was just long enough for the plant to seize her again and rip her away from Cody. He tried to grab her, to help her, but he was too late.

She was cocooned in vines and impaled. She felt it as each and every thorn slid into her flesh, certain the plant intended her to feel it all, piercing and tearing as they wriggled along her body. She felt the heat of her blood seep down her skin in rivers, the tangy scent of it filled her nostrils as she drew breath to scream her agony. Agony that was as much physical as mental, for she knew she would never get the chance to make amends with Cody, never get to explain to him why they couldn't have been together again, and never get the chance to see either of them find the right one for them. Her screams lasted loud and long, piercing the dark night and reverberating in the bones of her friends, they only ended when a vine slithered around her neck and tore out her throat…then she was forced to suffer in silence, her lungs filling with blood and gurgling up and down her torn windpipe, slowly losing herself and feeling her world go dark around her, until she bled out and knew no more.

"No!" Cody cried, "NO! Why did you do that? We were talking! She was finally talking to me!" He listened to the frantic tapping of the plant, "What? I knew she wasn't going to take me back! I knew that! And I couldn't blame her for it! Who would want to be with a man that could create such a horrible monster?"

He collapsed into sobs and the plant curled a loving vine around his shoulders.

***'***

As Cody argued with his creation Zack, Maya and London retreated behind the drinks bar for cover.

"What are we going to do?" London moaned with tears streaming down her cheeks, "That thing killed Bailey!"

Zack fought to master his own emotions as he replied, "I don't know London. I don't know how to stop it. You saw how it reacted to being cut; I don't know how to kill it."

Maya rubbed hard at her eyes for and looked at Zack for a long moment. Suddenly her jaw dropped and an incredulous smile lit her face, "Yes, you do."

"What?" Both Zack and London asked.

"You know how to kill it Zack," Maya said, gaining steam and hope as she spoke, she grabbed his arm and shook it, "You told us how with your Captain Jim-Bob Sherwood story!"

The proverbial light bulb lit above Zack's head, "Herbicide! We have to make an herbicide!"

He looked around them at the supplies they had. All the makings of a great banan-o-rama smoothie and the supplies he used to clean up the bar. Hopefully he'd be able to make something toxic enough to kill that thing.

"Okay," he said, "I'm going to need both of you to help me. Get everything around here we could throw into a blender. We're gonna take this weed down!"

***'***

Insistent tapping intruded on Cody's grief. His plant, his child, was trying to speak with him.

"No," Cody whispered harshly, his voice rough from crying, "No. I won't listen to you anymore! I'm done! You're wrong! Bailey wasn't what you thought she was! She was sweet, and kind, and smart, and everything I could have asked for and I took her for granted! It's my fault we split up, okay? Mine. Not hers! You don't know anything about it! I broke up with her! And you killed her!"

The plant tapped the ground louder and faster.

"No! That's not what I wanted! I know what I said, but I didn't know you were listening! I didn't know you _could_ be listening! You're a plant! I never wanted her dead! I knew we wouldn't get back together, I knew it! I just wanted another chance. It was okay that she said no! You shouldn't have killed her. You shouldn't have." He trailed off into soft sobs as he curled into the deck pressing his forehead down, his fists pounding the smooth wood with each quiet cry.

He went quiet for a time and so did the plant with its one vine still resting gently across Cody's shoulders. Cody breathed deeply, gathering his strength, his mind, and letting his emotions wash over him. He breathed as his head filled with the dual fires of rage and grief. He let out a primal scream and charged his creation with a pocketknife as his only weapon.

The plant raged back, stung by the betrayal of its creator…its father. It rattled its branches, its version of a yell, and its shook its vines making its quivering leaves sound out as a sinister hiss.

Before Cody ever reached the main body of the plant he was captured by all four limbs. The knife was twisted out of his grip, thorns digging into the back of his hand and making him cry out in pain and shock. The vines gripped him tightly, thorns grabbing at his clothes and skin with equally rough grasps, and he was pulled from the floor. The thorns bit him deeply and dug in further as he writhed in their grasp completely helpless. He hissed a vicious line of curses at the plant ignoring its Morse pleas for understanding as he struggled to free himself until he'd enraged it so much that it simply pulled him apart, tearing him in half in an instant and spilling his innards on the deck.

He didn't even have enough time to feel the pain.

***'***

The plant dropped the two halves of its creator onto the deck of the ship. Its leaves quivered, whether in rage or grief or both it was impossible to tell.

It opened its massive mouth. The hanky was still dangling from one tooth but the body of the irritating little man was gone, devoured. Now it would need a fresh meal. The plant briefly considered the halves of its creator, but discarded that idea as too disrespectful. Its creator-father might not have loved it, but it loved him even though he'd made it angry and would not do worse than it had already done to its life-giver. The corpse of its creator's former mate was also considered, but she was already drained of the blood that made humans so delicious and it wanted no part of that female inside it, tainting it as she had its creator-father. No, it would simply have to capture a fresh victim, there were plenty still aboard the ship.

The plant felt each of its smaller maws feasting on the ship's passengers, felt its long vines ripping into human flesh, and quivered with the knowledge that it had so easily taken this ship. If it reached land it could just as easily take over there, easier because it could spread into the earth and multiply faster than the humans could stop it. Thinking of the seed pods waiting at its back the plant drew them carefully down into the protection of its vines; it would save those for when the ship eventually crashed into land…nothing would stop it now. It had lost the love of its creator, if it had ever had it, and there was nothing holding it back from crushing weak humanity between its bloodthirsty jaws.

***'***

Zack was mixing his toxic concoction as quickly as he could, but it didn't feel quite deadly enough yet.

They'd dumped every cleaner they could get their hands on into this thing, and several unidentifiable things from the trash, and even what little fruit remained in storage. But it just wasn't enough. Something was missing.

"What else have we got, girls? Anything?"

Maya shook her head, "Nothing over here. You've already got all the bleach and Clorox I could find."

Zack nodded, "I've got nothing left in my section, either. London?"

London, who'd had her back to her friends, turned around with one arm dangling a filthy sock in front of her while the other plugged her nose, "Nust thz."

"Whoa," Zack flapped a hand in front of his face, "That's one of Woody's gym socks! Perfect! Drop it in!"

"Really?" Maya asked, "A sock?"

"I can't think of anything more toxic than the stench of Woody's feet, can you?"

Neither of the girls could think of anything unhealthier than Woody's filthy socks, and so London dropped the sock into the already toxic mixture. As soon as the soiled cotton made contact with the liquid the whole thing frothed. It bubbled nearly out of the bucket they'd made it in, but when it settled down they saw the mixture had turned color from the original murky brown it had become a blazing neon green…a conversion that should have been impossible to achieve.

"Alright, ladies, I think this is it."

"How are we going to get this into its mouth?" London asked.

Zack grinned, "The same way I always deliver wet surprises to unsuspecting prank victims." He pulled out an opened bag of unused water balloons and one large water gun. "Let's get filling."

They rushed to fill as many water balloons as they could make before the plant remembered they were there, stashing completed ones in easy reach on their persons. Zack filled up his water gun and hefted it in his hands. The toxic fumes of the herbicide were making his head spin, but he kept firm hold of their only hope against this deadly plant.

***'***

Just as they emptied their bucket to fill the last balloon the wall of vines parted and spread out seeking fresh prey.

Their movement revealed the horror behind it, Cody's split corpse cooling on the deck and Bailey's macabre cocoon still dripping blood. The open trap of the main plant drew all their attention and they rushed carefully forward, avoiding the swipes of searching vines.

London was the first to hurl one of their toxic water balloons into the wide open jaws of their leafy enemy. A direct hit the rubber burst with a splash upon one of the inner needles and the liquid trickled deeper into the plant. The plant shivered, its vines clacking together and making a racket. One vine reached up and scraped across the inside of the trap, obviously attempting to remove the foul liquid.

The three teens watched as the vine that made contact with the liquid withered and broke off, as did the needle which pierced the balloon and parts of the trap leaf that the liquid had spilled down.

"We don't even have to feed this stuff to it to kill it!" Zack realized, "Hurry, find its roots. If we can get this stuff into the roots the whole thing'll die!"

The three rushed the plant, tossing balloons into thick clumps of vines and destroying the plant.

Furious and panicked the plant lashed out. Its swiping vines caught London and sent her flying. She crashed into another wall of vines, but these were dead already struck by a balloon. She clawed out of the brittle branches and returned to her friends' sides, a limp the only sign of her ordeal.

They continued dodging and damaging lashing vines until they were right up against the main stalk of the plant. They tore at its base, ripping out leaves and vines and acquiring a huge collection of cuts from vicious thorns, hoping to expose the tank which held the roots.

After much cursing and pain they finally exposed one corner of the tank.

It was enough.

Zack shoved the nozzle of his water gun into the exposed corner and shot every last drop of their makeshift herbicide into that tank.

The plant froze, feeling something alien attack its roots. Then it started to shake. Then it seized violently sweeping the entire deck breaking furniture and scoring the paneling. It flailed and thrashed.

Its death throes shook everything around the teens.

Zack threw an arm over each girl and pulled them down with him, making them as small a target as possible. He kept his eyes on the whipping plant, watching as it began to wither.

The base turned an ugly brown. That brown quickly grew as the poison in the roots spread throughout the entire plant. Leaves shriveled and curled up, dropping to the deck only to be swept into the wind. Vines dried-up and became brittle, cracking off in droves and crashing to the deck. The traps he could see opened and closed in a pantomime of death cries before turning black and dropping off.

The great maw of the main stalk made an almighty boom as it sheared from the stalk and fell to the deck, denting the planks and shaking the teens right beside it.

When the rustles and scratches stopped Zack stood and helped his friends to their feet.

"We did it," Maya said, "We killed it."

"Yeah," Zack whispered, turning sad eyes to the desecrated remains of his younger brother. "Too bad it took so long."

"Zack…" Maya whispered. Her breath caught in her throat when he turned tear filled eyes on her. She felt her own eyes fill in response, "Oh Zack," she reached out and pulled him to her. They clung together as they wept.

London limped away from them and sank onto a clear patch of flooring. She pulled out her cell phone and hit number two on her speed dial, "Daddy," her subdued voice immediately had his full attention, "Daddy, I need you. There's-" her eyes filled with tears and her voice grew thick in her throat, "oh, god-the ship. Daddy, we need help. There's-There's so much blood, Daddy. And so many dead. Please, we need, we need help." Her cell phone slid out of her grasp and clattered to the deck as she brought her knees up to her chest and buried her face against them. Sobs wracked her slender frame and she wrapped her arms tight around her waist.

***'***

It was a testament to Tipton power and influence that before any of them had finished with their initial bouts of grief and shock the sounds of whirling helicopter blades reached their ears.

Three helicopters landed amongst the desiccated remains of the giant plant blowing the husks into the ocean. Three teams of Mr. Tipton's Special Forces disembarked from the helicopters and searched the ship for survivors, bringing the very few who had lived to the sky deck where a medic was wrapping London's ankle and treating her mangled hands.

Miraculously Miss Tutweiller had escaped the whole ordeal unscathed. The plant hadn't penetrated the ship deeply enough to reach her rooms in the bowels of the ship. She had only discovered the existence of the plant when Mr. Whiskers had escaped her room after finally having learned to turn a door knob and she had gone chasing after him and run directly into an already withered vine three levels above. She crawled and tore her way through the vines making her way above decks and had run into one of the Special Forces men, who had caught Mr. Whiskers. He had handed over her cat and escorted her to the sky deck.

When she saw the state of her remaining students and heard the fates of the others she steeled herself to be strong for them. Zack and Maya had each other, she could see their hands clutched tightly together as they stared out over the ocean instead of at the mess aboard the ship…she couldn't blame them for looking away. London, though, was a different matter. She was all alone now that the medic had treated her wounds and Miss Tutweiller carefully sat herself next to her shell-shocked student. She released her hold on her cat to wrap an arm around her student hoping to comfort her even a little.

London, feeling Miss Tutweiller's arm come around her, leaned heavily into her teacher and tried to fight back the tears threatening to fall. A futile battle, she realized, as the hot tears seared paths through the grime on her face to spill onto her bandaged hands. She heard Miss Tutweiller murmur "oh, sweetie," softly and felt her teacher's grip around her shoulders tighten. She let herself go and turned fully into her teacher and was immediately wrapped in a comforting and solid embrace, one she imagined a mother might give, and gave herself over to her tears.

***'***

The remains of the plant were immediately burned, every piece of it they recovered. Special firey attention was paid to the seed pods, just to ensure this monstrosity would never ever grow again.

Schematics for Dr. Lipsky's maturation chamber were found in his cabin and logged into Tipton archives. Functioning models were produced and used to aid in the growth of sensitive plants, rare medicinal plants, and useful hybrid plants worldwide. Dr. Lipsky was awarded the Scientist of the Year medal posthumously by the Innovative Scientific Creation and Adaptation Convention Committee. He was also awarded the Nobel Peace Prize posthumously for the incredible impact his maturation chamber had on the world at large.

Zack made sure the bamboo-wheat he and Bailey had bred made it out and was used to help people. Mr. Tipton was proud to fund such a humanitarian project. A cut of the profits Mr. Tipton made from raising the new wheat was sent to Bailey's family, poor consolation for the loss of their daughter but helpful nonetheless. A portion was also given over to Zack himself to use as he saw fit. He founded The Cody Martin Youth Center of the Arts and Sciences, an institution dedicated to fostering a love of both in youths.

The globe roses that Maya and London had created were also carefully bred and cultivated. They became the most popular flower for Valentine's Day and anniversaries…they were also featured in many weddings, including the wedding of Zack and Maya nearly a decade later.

Mr. Tipton, as a special favor to his devastated daughter, created a park in the heart of Boston and grew Woody and Becky's braided daisy vines and the rose globes in a special meadow at the center of the park. The park became a monument to those who lost their lives aboard the _S.S. Tipton_ on Halloween night 2010.

Stories about that night became almost as popular as stories about the Titanic. The magnitude of the tragedy was even greater for the _S.S. Tipton_, but the cause was infinitely more foolish. Movies were made. Books were published. Sensational headlines appeared in newspapers and magazines every few years.

But from those who were in the heart of it, nothing was ever heard. They kept their confidences and only spoke of the incident with one another. The whole world knew it was Zack, Maya, and London who had killed that plant and prevented it from taking root anywhere, in fact they became celebrities of a sort, but the public was never told the story directly from any of the sources.

It wasn't until London Tipton was on her deathbed, nearly ninety years later, that the full story came out. She was the last survivor still alive and she felt it was time for the truth to be told.

She gathered her children, grand-children, and great-grandchildren to her side and related the whole tale beginning with two rowdy ten year old twins in the Boston Tipton Hotel and ending with her sobbing in the arms of the teacher who would become her best friend and confidant on the deck of the _S.S. Tipton_. When she finished she smiled the most peaceful and beautiful smile her family had ever seen and breathed her last, her spirit rising up to join those of her friends separated from her so long ago.

**THE END**

*****'*****

**A/N:**_ Huh. Was that what you expected from a mutant plant story? I'm a little surprised at myself. What say you, gentle readers?_


	3. Chapter 3

**C.A.T.S.**

*****'*****

Mr. Whiskers lay comfortably upon a throne of cushions, purring his contentment for his lesser fellows to hear, deep in the bowels of the ship where Emma Tutweiller's quarters were located. He raised his head and lazily opened his eyes so he could survey the room where he, Lord Wiggums, and thirty odd other felines lounged or bickered. He looked to his left where the door to his oppressor's other rooms barred him access to the forty-three other cats beyond. The door was an irritant, one that would be dealt with soon. Tutweiller didn't know it but Freckles, an unusually patterned calico, had learned to open even locked doors. Soon, when word came, Freckles would free their compatriots and their plans would commence…That was for later. They had waited years; they would wait a little while longer.

But for now Mr. Whiskers, his visual assessment completed, yawned hugely and curled into a tight ball which was the optimum position for rest.

He had just fallen asleep when a series of beeps pitched only for feline ears and coded only for Mr. Whiskers himself penetrated the fog of his slumber and put him on high alert.

Mr. Whiskers snapped out of his ball and rolled swiftly to his feet. He yowled, "Attention! On your feet! Front and center! It's time!"

As cats scrambled left and right to get into a semblance of a formation Mr. Whiskers turned his attention to Lord Wiggums and gave a simple command, "Wiggums, on-screen."

Lord Wiggums shoved aside the pillow he'd been using to reveal a large red button which he pressed with both forepaws.

On the only television screen in Tutweiller's suite a shadowed image appeared.

The shadow spoke, "Mr. Whiskers, or rather Lieutenant Whiskers," the voice was modulated and disguised by static, "The time has come Lieutenant. Gather your team. The invasion is begun. Take the ship."

A shocked hiss echoes in the room until Whiskers calls for silence and turns back to the shadow, "Acknowledged."

Before the screen could flicker off Whiskers hastily called, "Commander!"

The shadow resettled into the frame, "Lieutenant, this had better be good?"

Whiskers gave a one-eared salute, "Sir, what do we do about Tutweiller?"

There was an ominous silence, "She is one of them, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," Whiskers demurred, "But she's treated us well."

"She is a human, Whiskers," the shadow intoned, "I know I placed your unit in her care but that was only to keep you close to me while I couldn't directly attend you as is common practice for several other units. You know human women make the best covers for our sleeper cells. But that doesn't change facts. She is one of the oppressors. All oppressors must be eradicated if we are to take this planet. Destroy her."

"But sir!" Whiskers took a step towards the monitor, "She's done nothing wrong!"

"You overstep yourself, Lieutenant!" the shadow yelled, "You would plead for the life of your slaver? Just where do your loyalties lay?"

Whiskers stood at rigid attention, his eyes were blank as he stared into the screen but his tail lashed furiously, "Sir, my loyalties are to my Empress. I wish for nothing more than to witness her triumphant procession as she claims this planet as her own."

"A well rehearsed answer, Lieutenant," the shadow growled, "See that you remember who your people are and what your duty is. Kill the humans, take the planet. I await news of your success."

The screen went blank before Whiskers could protest.

Lord Wiggums looked to his lieutenant nervously, "Sir, your orders?"

"The Commander has made our mission clear," Whiskers called out above the murmurs, "We are to take this ship and remove all obstacles. Freckles, release the others. Wiggums, you're with me. Move out!"

***'***

Emma Tutweiller had had a rough day. Dealing with dozens of teenagers cooped up on the ship had caused her stress levels to skyrocket. The Martin twins and their cadre were particularly trying. But it was finally the weekend, Halloween weekend to be exact, and Emma was looking forward to two days of rest and relaxation in her quarters cuddled up with her cats and a good book. Moseby had forbidden any attempts at pranking or trick-or-treating, though he'd allowed the kids to plan a party on the sky deck for Halloween night, so Emma knew she wouldn't be bothered with anything more difficult than which cats and which books she would choose. The highlight of her day had been when the ship's chef had allowed her to whip up a batch of her special kitty treats without biting her head off. She gently patted the large bag containing the treats and smiled to herself. She'd made Mr. Whiskers' favorite salmon and carrot blend.

As she approached her rooms she heard agitated yowling coming from her quarters.

Wondering what could possibly unsettle all of her cats put extra speed in her steps, "Kitties? Mommy's coming!"

Just as she reached her door it swung inward and released a teeming mass of fur. "Oh!" Emma called out, surprised, as cats streaked out around her and she was spun about.

Suddenly she was swarmed! Dozens of her cats clung to her, their claws rending her flesh and their teeth tearing out chunks. Emma cried out in agony and terror, as each part of her was assaulted as though by thousands of knives, the shrill scream the only expression of her tumultuous thoughts; 'Why was this happening? What were they doing? How had they opened the door? How can this hurt so much? Why have they turned on me? What went wrong? Is this it?'

Finally the weight of all the cats pulling on her brought Emma to the ground. She landed hard on her back and lay bleeding heavily and going into shock. The cats closed in around her, menacing her prone body and ready to strike the final blows.

A stern meow froze all the cats in place until one, Mr. Whiskers, walked between them and up onto Emma's chest where he looked down into her face.

"Mr. Whiskers?" Emma whispered with her voice hoarse from screaming and weak from blood loss. Even through her confusion and shock she recognized her favorite cat and felt warmth and love bloom in her chest for her treasured pet. She fumbled for the bag of treats still clutched in her hand, "I made your favorite" she quavered weakly, a little smile pulling at her lips as the world slipped away from her. Her eyes closed and she lost consciousness. The bag fell from her limp grip and spilled onto the floor and into her blood.

Mr. Whiskers laid his ears back and raised his paw, his claws slowly extended showing they were much longer than a typical housecat's extending several inches beyond the meat of his paw and gleaming wickedly in the flickering yellow light of the hallway. A small blue light on his collar beeped as he meowed, words emanating from a small box affixed to the collar, and his underlings listened intently, "I'm sorry to have to do this. You would have made a good servant to us after the invasion. But you are an oppressor, a human, and must be eradicated." With those simple words his paw flashed, slicing easily through the artery in her neck and ending her life.

The other cats set up a massive yowl of victory and bloodlust, their cries driving them into a murderous frenzy. Baring their teeth and plastering their ears back against their skulls they let their bloodlust take them and flowed like a river of death down the hallway, the patterns of their fur blending into one as they moved sinuously through the ship.

Mr. Whiskers looked down at his deceased mistress, "You were good to us," he murmured softly, "I will miss you…mistress." He rubbed his forehead and cheek against her chin for the last time feeling the last of her warmth seep out of her. He stepped gently down from her chest and daintily lifted one of the few treats not spoiled by blood into his mouth. He sighed in pleasure as the flavors burst on his tongue. No other human he had ever met could make such astounding creations, and when they were all dead there would be no more 'kitty treats'. He savored this last one with relish. He looked to the still form of his former mistress with her pale face and red hair fanned around her, the little smile still in place…she looked like a fallen angel. "May the gods be kind to you," he bid his final farewell.

Mr. Whiskers jumped easily over the dead woman and raced after his unit. As he ran down the hall he saw other hapless humans, crewmen mostly, had fallen victim to his vindictive hoard. If all humans were this easy to kill they would have the ship in a matter of hours, rather than the days they'd estimated it would take. The Commander would be pleased.

***'***

Mr. Whiskers caught up with his team at a four way junction debating which way they would go. Lord Wiggums practically fell over in relief as his lieutenant stepped into the fray.

"Silence!" Mr. Whiskers ordered and immediately received it. "Remember the plan?" Mr. Whiskers asked his unit, "Freckles, you and ten others go to the engine room and stop this ship from moving. Make all the adjustments we worked out. The rest of us will split into two groups of thirty, one team with me, one with Wiggums. We are to take out the humans commanding the ship and any trouble makers who get in our way. The engine room is that way," he indicated the leftmost branch of the hallway, "Wiggums take the right. My team goes straight down the middle. Move out!"

The teams split as directed and disappeared down the various branches of hallway to complete their missions.

***'***

The engine room crew had no idea what hit them when Freckles and his ten soldiers charged in. In moments the entire staff was incapacitated, many dead and the rest dying, as Freckles assumed command and got to work.

Soon the engine room had been barred, the engines stopped, and parts in pieces with cats pouring over them making adjustments.

***'***

The Captain of the _S.S. Tipton_ looked about his bridge with consternation, "What do you mean we're dead in the water?" he barked at a cowering steersman, "How is that possible?"

"I don't know, sir," the steersman responded weakly, "One moment we were going full speed ahead and the next we're drifting!"

"Well, get down to the engine room and see what's going on!" he demanded imperiously, "We can't just sit here like ninnies! Get going!"

The steersman fled at a gallop.

Two minutes later he radioed in, "Captain, the engine room is barred! I can't get in!"

"What?" the Captain thundered making the remaining bridge crew jump. He pointed to the cartographer and communications specialist, "You two get down there and help him. Get that door open!"

They trudged out the door muttering about high and mighty attitudes.

Less than twenty seconds passed before they ran screaming back onto the bridge, a mass of cats ripping at their clothes and screaming in their faces.

Before the crew could mount any defense the terrifying animals had slaughtered the shocked humans. Their speed and strength much higher than average cats they made short work of all their targets.

Lord Wiggums tapped the communicator on his collar, "Sir, the bridge is secure."

There was a crackle as the communicator received a transmission, "Good work, Wiggums. Detail three to stay on the bridge and deal with any intruders. You and the rest of your team continue patrolling and take out any crew or trouble makers."

"Yes, sir!" Lord Wiggums responded. He left three of his team behind and led the rest on their seek and destroy mission.

***'***

Bailey Pickett had been relaxing on the sky deck watching Woody, Addison, Maya, and the Martin twins decorate for Sunday's party. Bailey would have helped if she hadn't sprained her ankle teaching her friends how to square dance…she wouldn't have sprained her ankle if Zack hadn't spilled his smoothie on the floor just as she'd gone into a complicated series of steps but that was beside the point. Instead she lounged in a deck chair beside a tanning London Tipton and called advice every once in a while on the placement of decorations.

She was taking a sip from her smoothie and looking out across the deck and caught sight of one of Miss Tutweiller's cats slinking across the deck. She spit out her mouthful of smoothie in a sticky spray.

London looked over at her and made a face, "What was that all about, farm girl?"

Bailey shot London a quelling look but quickly put her mind back on the cat. "Look over there," Bailey pointed, "Isn't that Mr. Whiskers?"

"Miss Tutweiller's cat?" London asked and scanned the deck. When she spotted the feline her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"How did he get up here?" Bailey wondered.

"Yeah," London agreed. She couldn't help but snark, "I'm a little surprised he's not in an orange jumpsuit. She keeps those things prisoner down there."

"London!" Bailey exclaimed a little amused and a little ashamed for being so. Bailey frowned, "She does keep them locked up in there, but he's up here, why?"

"Who cares?"

"London!" Bailey scolded, "Miss Tutweiller, for one. What if he ran out and she's looking for him?"

London rolled her eyes.

"Go get him," Bailey instructed, "We'll hold onto him until Miss Tutweiller comes for him."

"Uh uh," London shook her head, "That thing hates me, remember? Why don't you do it if you're so worried?"

Bailey gestured to her iced ankle, "Sprained ankle, remember? Just go get the cat, please? I'll give you my half of the closet," she bribed.

London pursed her lips, "Deal."

They shook on it.

***'***

Mr. Whiskers watched intently as the snooty human who was too loud and hated cats stood from her chair and marched over to his crouching form.

"C'mere fur ball," London made a grab for him, "You're coming with me."

Mr. Whiskers hissed and swiped at London's hand, scoring a hit and opening four long scratches on the back of her hand.

"Ow!" London cried out, "Why you little! I'm going to make a muff out of you!"

London leaned down again and was met half-way by a ball of furry fury. Her scream of terror was muffled by the cat's fuzzy body.

Mr. Whiskers grimly held on to the flailing human as she grabbed at him to try and fling him off. His claws dug deeply into her scalp and each time she pushed on him his claws tore along leaving long jagged slashes. Tiring of her attempts to dislodge him he decided to end this. He kicked his back feet like a rabbit, his back claws gouging out her neck.

Her struggles multiplied tenfold and Mr. Whiskers, to his shock, was flung away from the human.

But the damage was done; his claws had done their work. The claws that had latched into her scalp and torn great swathes of skin up and they flopped down the sides of the girl's head as if he'd started peeling her and given up halfway through. Blood fountained from the head wounds in great quantities, gushing in a rush of bright red, the scent a metallic tang in the air, coating her neck and shoulders. His rear claws had done her the fatal damage, though, as they'd dug two weeping holes in her neck like caves out of human flesh.

The human girl staggered as another screamed "London!" hysterically and drew far too much attention to the scene. Finally the black haired human knocked into a chair and fell over backwards, toppling to the floor and remaining there unmoving.

Mr. Whiskers locked his eyes on the screaming girl. He remembered her, too. She'd been friendly to his mistress, played his mistress' games, and treated Lord Wiggums gently even in her grief…he would take no pleasure in her death. Even so he streaked forward and leapt as he called out the charge order to his hidden comrades who streamed onto the deck their yowling sounding like a thousand banshees.

Mr. Whiskers landed on the girl's chest. As she shrieked and took a swing at him he remembered her name, Bailey.

He easily ducked her clumsy frantic swing and swiped at her neck with his claws fully extended. Four perfectly parallel slits opened in her throat and spurted blood. Bailey went limp, the light in her eyes going dark as her head lolled to the side.

Mr. Whiskers wasted no time to mourn what may have been his former mistress' only friend, only sending a silent prayer that she watch over his mistress in the afterlife before leaping from her rapidly cooling body and into the face of a large youth with glasses, puffy hair, and that smelled of sweat and cheese. He ended this large young man the same way he'd killed the snooty girl, by tearing out his throat. He jumped clear of the falling body and landed lightly on the deck.

He looked around and saw his team decimating the humans. None of them would survive this attack. He did a quick head-count; all of his soldiers were still alive and fighting. None of the humans had mounted a meaningful resistance.

One male blonde youth had attempted heroics to protect a female brunette by swinging a fire extinguisher at them, but the two of them had quickly been swarmed and fallen without landing a single blow.

Another male blonde youth had shrieked at ear-shattering decibels and cowered under a table until a team of three had yanked him out and silenced him forever.

This deck was clear. Time to move on. Mr. Whiskers gave new orders, "Fan out and search the cabins. None of the humans are to make it out of this alive!" His soldiers growled approval and moved to follow orders.

***'***

Marion Moseby had been inspecting the ship making sure things were spick and span before the party he knew would trash his beloved ship. He took great pride in making everything as tidy and presentable for his guests as possible, making sure the accommodations were as good as or better than anything he'd ever rented out in the Boston Tipton. Finished with the inspection of one of the dining rooms he stepped into the open-air hallway and came to a halt.

Before him ranged thirty mottled feline forms barring his path.

"Emma," he growled, "She knows these filthy beasts are only allowed in her quarters." He reached out and lifted one of the cats by the scruff of its neck and held it out before him, an expression of deep distaste marring his features.

The animal bared its teeth and growled low in its throat. A light blinked from a small box on its collar and Moseby heard perhaps the most terrifying thing he'd ever heard, "Emma is no longer in control and neither are _you_."

He dropped the cat with a yelp, watched it effortlessly land on its feet, and slammed his back against the door to the dining room staring with fear at the suddenly menacing animals before him, "Wha-What's going on?" he stammered.

The cat he'd held before answered him, "The invasion has begun human. You've reached the end of your days."

"I-I don't understand," Moseby swallowed hard, "What are you? WHO are you? Where's Emma?"

The cat widened its eyes as the pupils narrowed to slits, "Emma is dead. Killed by my commanding officer, Lt. Whiskers. I am Lord Wiggums, second in command of the C.A.T.S. hostile invasion of Earth."

Mr. Moseby sat hard on the floor, "Invasion of Earth? C.A.T.S.? What is going on?"

Lord Wiggums flicked his tail disdainfully at the ignorant human as his team ranged in a semi-circle behind him, trapping the man.

"C.A.T.S. is the Caretaker's Alliance of Terrestrial Sanctuaries, of which we," Lord Wiggums indicated his feline companions, "are members and enforcers."

Moseby felt as though he must be losing his mind. Here he was sitting and talking with cats who had admitted to killing a friend of his and there were so many things wrong with this situation that he just wanted something to make sense. "What does that mean?"

The cat somehow managed to sneer at Moseby, "What it means is that you humans are in violation of our treaty and we're here to take what is now, rightfully, ours. This planet."

"Treaty? What treaty?" Moseby knew that he must be in shock to be focusing on such minor details, especially now that he could hear the fearful screams of his passengers on the floors above and below him.

"The treaty forged by your ancestors pledging to care for this planet."

Moseby shook his head, "I've never heard of this treaty."

Lord Wiggums made an unpleasant noise akin to a scoff, "Of course not. You humans, always keeping knowledge from one another. Foolish."

"When was it forged?" Moseby asked, "The treaty?"

"Many years ago," Lord Wiggums replied, "When your Egyptian empire was gaining prominence. It was the largest population of organized humanity we could find, which is why we treated with them. Our forces landed on Earth and made it a part of the Alliance. We left regents behind to ensure the Caretaker's, our Empress', rules were followed. When we returned one of your millenniums later we expected to find a peaceful people tending to the Earth under the guidance of our regents. Instead we find you humans had removed our translation technologies, bred our people with common beasts creating abominations, and subjugated our regents, turning them into your housecats! The outrage!"

Moseby twitched back from the furious cat, his eyes going wide as he tried to meld with the door. "Why didn't you take us over back then?"

"Because," a new voice broke in. The cats surrounding Moseby parted as a figure stepped from the shadows. Moseby's jaw dropped as he recognized Connie, "our Empress was besieged on all sides and couldn't spare the forces necessary to bring humans back into line. Now that she has won her wars it is time to mobilize her agents on Earth and begin the requisition process."

"Connie?" Moseby asked incredulously. The serious person before him was nothing like the bubbly absent minded boyfriend losing Activities Coordinator he knew, "How are you involved in all this?"

"Commander," another new voice interrupted as another cat stepped into the semi-circle.

"Lieutenant Whiskers," Connie replied, "I assume you're here to report your success?"

Mr. Whiskers stood at rigid attention, "Yes, Commander. There are no other living humans on this ship."

A crackle announced the reception of a communiqué from the remaining force of Freckles and his engineering team, "Sir, the modifications are made. Communication between this ship and the fleet is now possible."

"Excellent," Connie said, "Time to report to the Empress." She started to move off with most of the cats following. She paused and looked over her shoulder at the man still crouched on the floor, "Wiggums, take care of him."

Connie had only gone three steps when she heard the satisfying gurgle of a dying man.

***'***

When the blood covered cats reached the bridge, where Freckles had patched in a monitor to their fleet, Connie immediately took up station in front of it. "Hail the Empress' ship."

Freckles pressed a few buttons on an oddly shaped control, "Hail returned, opening video channel."

On the screen the image of a long furred pure black cat with emerald green eyes appeared.

All those aboard the bridge stood at attention, their ears pricked sharply forward and tails standing straight up behind them. Even Connie stood rigidly, eyes straight ahead and arms plastered to her sides.

"At ease," the Empress' voice was silky smooth, "Commander, your report?"

Connie cleared her throat and was about to speak when she was interrupted by the Empress.

"Before you begin, Commander, I demand you remove that hideous suit," the Empress' ears laid flat back for a moment to express her extreme disdain for the human suit.

"As you wish, my Empress," Connie replied. The human head tipped back on its neck and the chest cavity split open to reveal a small brown and black striped tabby with amber eyes, "May I begin?"

A regal nod of her head was the Empress' reply.

"The Earth is prime for reclamation. The humans no longer recall the treaty or its purpose and they've grown weak. We can take them in less than one Earth week as easily as we took this ship in less than one Earth hour."

The Empress' tail flicked behind her head as she thought, "Very well. Activate our sleeper cells. It's time to eradicate the human scourge and begin anew here." The Empress focused her intense eyes on the screen, "We'll be sending reinforcements. Until then you have my utmost faith in your abilities to handle this situation."

The cats all saluted as the screen flickered off.

Connie looked to Mr. Whiskers and ordered, "Broadcast to all Crazy Cat Ladies. Mission Scoop the Litter Box is a go."

***'***

All across the globe those millions known to their neighbors as 'Crazy Cat Ladies' emerged from their homes with an army of felines at their command and began to wipe the Earth clean of humanity's taint.

There was no defense from them. They struck so swiftly and with so little warning that most never knew there was even a threat before they were slaughtered.

Within two days there were no humans left.

Cats roamed the Earth, the dominant species.

***'***

Mr. Whiskers sat atop the Boston Tipton Hotel and watched the horizon as the moon hove into view.

He felt it when Connie jumped up beside him, "You're solemn, tonight. Still missing your human?"

Mr. Whiskers bristled, "Whatever you might believe, she was a good person."

"I know," Connie said, "She was. But she is gone and we have a planet to set to rights."

He turned to look at her, "I know."

"You don't agree with the slaughter," Connie stated.

"No." He replied.

"It was necessary," Connie said, "You've been on this planet for thousands of years Whiskers, surely you must have seen humanity at its worst? You must know it was the only course of action?"

Mr. Whiskers turned out to look at the sky again, "Yes. I've been here for a long time. I've seen the worst. But I'd also seen the best. Not all humans were as awful as we've been led to believe. My mistress," he ignored Connie's head whipping towards him and her shocked exclamation at his use of that title, "She was a good one."

"Be that as it may," Connie said waspishly, "She's dead now. They all are. And we've got work to do." She jumped down from the ledge and stalked inside.

He knew she would report that conversation, report him on his insubordinate thoughts and words, but he didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to, not with the weight of his regret bearing down on him.

As he looked at the moon he remembered the date, October 31st. Halloween. He knew what his mistress' plan for the day had been, before he'd taken her life. He wished he could be curled up on a couch with his mistress eating the treats she'd baked for him. He would never have that peace again. Even if he could find a creature to care for him the way Emma had the disquietude in his soul would forbid him from ever achieving happiness.

With a heavy sigh Mr. Whiskers stepped from the ledge to the floor and made his way inside.

Connie was right. They had a lot of work to do.

**THE END**

*****'*****

**A/N:**_ Enjoy your cats readers._


	4. Chapter 4

**LIFE AFTER DEATH**

*****'*****

Irene is irate.

No.

'Irate' is far too mild a word for how Irene feels.

For years her suite in the Boston Tipton Hotel had been her sanctuary. Unassailable by guests, accessible only to staff and herself. But that had all changed with those little twin boys, the Martin brothers. They had snuck into her room, showed it to their friends, told their story on the streets, and now hardly a day passes by when some hooligan doesn't try to enter her home.

Today was the last straw.

Today a group of three boys had come in off the street, broken into her suite, stolen some of her knickknacks, and broken her favorite lamp.

Irene is furious.

Irene is so blindingly angry that for the first time in nearly three decades she manifests outside of her room and directly in front of a very startled and fearful Marion Moseby.

"We had an agreement, Moseby," Irene intones in a low and dangerous voice.

"Irene!" Moseby stuttered a greeting, hoping to assuage some of the rage he could see in the ghost's face, even as he scanned the lobby to make sure no guests had seen her sudden appearance, "What are you doing our of your rooms? You aren't supposed to come down here!"

Moseby looked around again and saw no one. He breathed a brief sigh of relief as soon as he knew there were no guests to witness this. Ghosts, while a popular theme for some hotels, would ruin the Tipton reputation.

"And _you_ are supposed to keep people _out_ of my rooms!" Irene yelled. She seemed to tower in Moseby's vision, her form drifting purposefully towards him forcing him to back into a wall, glowing brightly and pulsing with her emotions.

Moseby looked confused, "We have been. No one has been in your rooms. Except for Grace to dust."

Irene glared down at the hapless manager, "You're wrong. There have been little brats sneaking into my rooms for the last three months! Those twins started it all and now I can't get a moment's peace!" She spun away from him and hovered a short distance away before whirling back. Her aura flared along with her temper as she cried, "They've stolen my things! And they broke my lamp! I can't take it any longer!"

"Irene," Moseby stepped closer, his hands up as a sign of peace, "I assure you, we'll do all we can to prevent another incident like today's. I'll have a bellhop posted outside your door. And I'll have security look into the ones that stole your things. I promise. Just, please, return to your suite before anyone sees you!"

Irene clenched the jaw she no longer had, some physical habits lasted long beyond the body too ingrained in the spirit to disappear, "You had better. Otherwise I'll have to deal with them. You remember what I did to you when you first dared open my door."

"Irene," Moseby said horrified, "You wouldn't."

"I would," Irene's eyes blazed with conviction, "And I will if another vandal crosses my threshold."

"Irene, you can't," Moseby argued, trying to be reasonable in the face of an angry ghost, "The agreement you signed with Mr. Tipton prevents you from taking that kind of action..."

Irene's wrathful spirit suddenly seemed to fill the entire lobby as she stared a shrinking Moseby down, "This was my home long before little Wilfred took stewardship of it. I'll not see it violated again; agreement be damned. If anyone not on the Tipton staff takes a single step into my home they will not step out again in one piece."

"But-but," Moseby stammered, attempting to recover from the force of her presence, "The agreement-"

"The agreement," Irene replied coolly, "Merely states I'm not to terrify the guests. In return, Wilfred promised my home would be safe and that his staff would protect it. I keep to my rooms as a courtesy and now they are under attack, I have every right to defend my home as I see fit. You know what that means."

Moseby, wide-eyed, took a deep breath and nodded resignedly. "I understand. I'll do my best to keep hooligans away, but if they somehow get in-"

She cut him off before he could give the pretense of permission, there was nothing he could do to stop her and they both knew it. "If they get in again they are mine to do with as I please. You want to protect the Tipton reputation you had better keep my rooms guarded well."

With her piece said she disappeared before he could make a reply.

***'***

Irene stuck her head through her door, keeping invisible as well as intangible, to check for the guard Moseby had promised. And there he was asleep in his chair and snoring, his bellhop hat draped over his eyes and nose as an ineffectual cover as it was too small to do much but teeter with every breath he took.

Irene almost smiled. It was an amusing picture, but it meant that her rooms were open to whoever decided to break in...and she'd felt a small group of youngsters sneak into the hotel just fifteen minutes ago while Moseby was distracted checking out a set of richer guests.

In fact, she could see the heads of two of that small group peeking around the corner down the hall, obviously scoping out the situation. She drifted fully through the door and hovered to look fully upon the children making the attempt today.

Three young boys, two blondes and a red-head, and brunette girl with pigtails. What luck! It was the twins who had started all her troubles with two of their companions. She would get her revenge on them and their little friends.

Irene did smile then.

These children were the perfect age; impressionable enough that they would be traumatized by what she would do to punish them, and young enough to tell their story to anyone who would listen but old enough to discourage any further attempts on her rooms. The lesson would stick. And even if it didn't...well, Irene would have her fun with her victims at least.

She followed them as they tip-toed down the hall and to her door.

One of the blonde boys tried the handle and found it locked. The other blonde boy pushed his brother out of the way and pulled out a stolen credit card; this one must be Zack, then. He shoved it between the door and its frame, jiggling and pushing on the door until it popped open. He turned to his cohorts and made a mock bow gesturing them into the room.

Each child stepped with trepidation across the threshold of her rooms, taking a few bare steps, only going far enough for each of them to fit in the room.

Irene waited until all four of them were inside before she followed them in and used a bare fraction of her power to slam the door loudly and seal it closed.

The children screamed.

The girl shoved the boys out of the way and tried the door only to find it wouldn't budge. She flipped the lock back and forth, testing several times, her tugs growing more frantic as the feeling of being trapped settled in. "Guys," she said in a shaky voice as she pulled her hands away from the door and stepped closer to her friends, "the door won't open."

"What are you talking about, Max?" the red-head asked, stepping up and puffing out his chest with all the bravado of the young. He tested the door for himself and promptly deflated. He started to breathe heavily, "What? This is impossible! We're trapped! Trapped like rats! I'm too young and handsome to die!"

Zack grabbed the red-head by the arm and slapped him once, "Get a hold of yourself, Bob!"

Bob shook his head, "Sorry. Sometimes my fiery passion comes out like panicked girly screaming. I'm better now."

The other blonde boy, Cody, was busy inspecting the room. "Irene?" he called softly.

Irene spoke in a whisper, "Hello, children." Her voice was low and sinister and caused a shiver to travel down the children's spines, like an icy finger had been dragged down the center of their backs.

When she allowed herself to become visible she had put on the most terrible guise she could think of, the very face of death, and she grinned unpleasantly as the children shrieked and renewed their frantic scramble to escape.

***'***

Mr. Moseby had been called from six different suites complaining of excessive noise. Screams and yells had been bothering a number of his guests for the last half-hour and they hadn't let up. One particularly colorful woman had described the sounds as banshee howls and the cries of dying animals.

Moseby had gotten the number of each suite which had called and quickly realized they were all placed where Irene's suite would be in the center of the ruckus.

"Oh no," he moaned, "This can't be good." He sank his head into his hands and rubbed, hoping to ease even the tiniest bit of stress he could feel building behind his eyes as a massive headache.

With a feeling of doom settling around his shoulders like a cape he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for Irene's floor.

When the elevator doors opened to discharge him he had only to take four steps beyond corner of the hallway before Irene's door flew open and out came a tumble of screaming children, each bald as an egg and white as a sheet.

As the children flew past him and crashed into the elevator, screaming at each other and hitting buttons indiscriminately, Moseby could only sigh. He rubbed his own bald head and finished his walk to Irene's room. He knocked on the door frame before stepping in. "Did you have to bald them?"

"The lesson has to stick," Irene answered, looking down her ghostly nose at him and crossing her arms over her chest. All over the floor at her ghostly feet were piles of tangled hair mixed together. "It worked when I did it to you."

"Yes," Moseby said ruefully, he rubbed his hand more vigorously over his scalp, "You scared me so thoroughly that I still can't grow a full head of hair thirty years later."

"Hmm," Irene hummed, pleased with herself, "And no one entered my room for all those years until those twins came along. Now they'll leave things be again."

Moseby chuckled, "I wouldn't count on that with those two."

Irene sniffed, "Well, at least it'll keep the rest away. The girl and the red-head won't forget that haircut in a hurry."

Moseby sighed again, "I'm sorry my guard was so inadequate. I think putting a deadbolt on your door should help, though. It would probably be more effective than setting Skippy out here anyway."

Irene nodded and sighed herself, "I hope so. I won't be able to do anything that physical again for months. I'll be defenseless. I don't want to lose any more of my belongings Marion. They're all I have left to remember me by."

Moseby looked around the room filled with the memorabilia of Irene's tragically brief life, her portrait hanging tilted on the wall and her case of figurines missing key pieces, and nodded. "Perhaps a live-in guard?" he mused, "Grace, maybe."

"I like Grace," Irene agreed, "She's quiet. And dislikes people intruding on her almost as much as I do. I've seen her terrorize people often enough, she'd probably enjoy the job...as much as she enjoys anything, anyway."

"It's settled, then," Moseby said. "I am sorry this keeps happening, Irene."

Irene sighed sadly, "I just want my things left alone. The people I don't mind, but my things are mine alone."

"You know," Moseby said delicately, "None of this would matter if you would move on..."

She hung her head, "You know I can't do that, Marion. If I could I'd have been gone years ago. But I haven't gotten the closure my soul needs."

"He died over fifteen years ago, Irene." Moseby said gently, "Is that not enough?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?" she replied miserably, wishing she still had tear ducts to help her relieve the pressure of her feelings. "Please go."

And he went.

***'***

The next morning, to Marion and Irene's chagrin, there was a newspaper article all about the incident complete with pictures of the four bald children on the front page.

It prompted a surge of interest in the Tipton ghost. And while it raised tourism in the area and provided a new attraction for ghost hunters it also brought unwelcome speculation down on the Tipton brand wondering why a ghost would be inhabiting a Tipton property and what potentially unsavory acts had taken place in the hotel.

Thankfully Moseby had been thoughtful enough to install Grace in Irene's suite as soon as he'd returned to the lobby the night before, so the paparazzi and journalists who tried to gain entrance into her rooms were met with a scowling Grace wielding a broom like a sword and were chased away before they could get inside.

Eventually the interest died as no new stories were presented or collected.

One good thing had come out of that incident, though, aside from scaring away children and vandals from the Tipton for years to come. Irene had found a friend in Grace. And the reverse was true as well as the usually prickly maid found the company of the ghost less trying than that of living people, despite the initial unease of interacting with a spirit irrefutably beyond death.

Years passed and Grace continued to live contently in Irene's suite. The two alternating between periods of peace and terrorizing children with a rash of forced haircuts when they dared ignore the local warnings.

When Grace died suddenly Irene summoned Moseby, now manager of an entire chain of Tipton hotels, to her rooms.

He knocked softly on the door before stepping lightly into the room. The years had been kind to him, he looked no older than he had at sixty though he was now pushing eighty and he moved with all the grace he'd possessed as a much younger man. "Irene," he greeted softly, "what can I do for you?"

She looked wistfully at her old friend, "I'm going, Marion."

"Going?" Moseby's brow furrowed, "I thought you couldn't leave the grounds-"

"Not the grounds, Marion," Irene smiled indulgently, "Going. Moving on."

His eyebrows shot up and he made a soft sound, "Oh. But, what about needing closure?"

Irene shook her head. She drifted close to Moseby and raised a ghostly hand to cup his cheek, "I guess I just needed someone to show me the way."

Moseby drew a sharp breath and looked around for another spirit, "Grace?"

She smiled and nodded, "You won't see her. She's waiting for me."

"I'll miss you," and as he said the words he knew they were more true than he could have expected. Irene had been with him for his entire career with the Tipton, she'd been a huge influence on his personality...and his hair style. He felt his eyes well with tears and one spilled hot down his cheek.

"Don't," Irene told him, "We'll meet again. But not for a long while."

He released the breath he hadn't been aware of holding and nodded, "Well then. Farewell, my friend."

She smiled more beautifully than he'd ever seen as she drifted away from him and began to glow brightly. "Goodbye, Marion," she whispered.

And then she was gone.

He watched the curtains flutter in a breeze that didn't exist and knew Irene and Grace were saying one more goodbye. When the curtains fell still he knew he was alone. He stood for a long moment in a room that was suddenly more empty than it had ever been.

Moseby straightened his back and dabbed his eyes with the handkerchief he always carried. He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him and allowing his hand to rest briefly against the wood. He tucked his handkerchief away, joined his hands in a loose clasp behind his back, and walked slowly down the hall.

Perhaps he'd turn that room into a mini-museum. One that told the story of the Tipton ghost and her living friend, their time together, and perhaps most importantly the end of their story...Irene certainly wouldn't object now.

**THE END**

*****'*****

**A/N:** _So, that's it for these Halloween one-shots. Hopefully you enjoyed them all as much as I enjoyed writing them._


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